Of Food and Nursery Rhymes

The hunger had nagged at him all day. At work, on the commute, every little action punctuated by appetite. Now he was home. He could relax. But did he dare? A naughty little snack here and there never did hurt anybody... Jeff tugged open the fridge door.

His mouth watered at the pedicured foot.

So, I've been a bad boy and don't have any writing to show you aside from that SUPER short story I slapped together. It feels a lot like the Very Short Stories I write on Twitter. Essentially you have a character limit, and have to make a compelling story fit in there. I feel like it's helped me grow as a writer.

Apparently my subject matter is still drek, though.

No matter! The book is plugging away. I'm still getting agent refusals left and right, but I have one or two things that are looking promising. Maybe I'll entered the esteemed halls of "published writer" yet. Until then I'll keep plugging away at the second book.

Also, damn you, Kelly. You turned children's rhymes into a terrible thing.

"Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack,

All dressed in black, black, black,

She had a knife, knife, knife,

Stuck in her back, back, back.

She can not breathe, breathe, breathe,

She can not cry, cry, cry,

That's why she begs, begs, begs,

She begs to die, die die.

I feel the creative juices flowing. Maybe something will come of that?